


Iridescent

by kenporusty



Category: The Hobbit RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, Alternate Universe - Mythology, Blow Job, I really wanted Richard to top, M/M, Some people are dragons, be a bottom, but that bastard had another idea, fine, sex sex sex, some people are half breeds, this is what happens when I'm encouraged to set fan fic in my own universes, whatever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-20
Updated: 2013-07-03
Packaged: 2017-12-15 13:42:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/850191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kenporusty/pseuds/kenporusty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are topics within the “industry” that are common knowledge, within the industry. The general public, least of all the fans, don’t know exactly why David Tennant requires longer in make up when appearing shirtless. They don’t know why Chris Pine and Tom Hiddleston always take longer meal breaks than their costars and colleagues.</p><p>And when the cast for The Hobbit came together, Peter Jackson factored in these secret tidbits into his staffing needs. No one batted an eyelash or questioned.</p><p>Except for Dean.</p><p>Dean missed the memo entirely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For everyone who has ceaselessly encouraged me in this (and all of my other) projects.
> 
> I mean no character defamation with this, and I do not profit from it. This is a work of fantasy.
> 
> And the conceptual dragons within are of my own design. If you want to use them, please ask.

There are topics within the “industry” that are common knowledge, within the industry. The general public, least of all the fans, don’t know exactly why David Tennant requires longer in make up when appearing shirtless. They don’t know why Chris Pine and Tom Hiddleston always take longer meal breaks than their costars and colleagues.

And when the cast for The Hobbit came together, Peter Jackson factored in these secret tidbits into his staffing needs. No one batted an eyelash or questioned. 

Except for Dean. 

Dean missed the memo entirely, and learned the hard way who on set was half-breed, who was full-breed, and who was human. Some of them are shy about it. Like Richard. Some stopped caring long ago, like Aidan and Lee. When Dean first saw Aidan’s coppery body with the thick black mottling, he almost forgot to breathe. Aidan flicked a wing in greeting and slithered into his trailer, emerging a few minutes as the curly haired Irishman that served as his friend, confidant, partner in crime, and on-screen brother.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Dean breathed.

He was working with dragons.

**

“So Aidan is out for this afternoon, he has prior plans or something, so are you still coming by?” Richard rumbled, sitting across from Dean, picking at a lively looking salad. Dean snapped out of his daydream, blinking and turning it attention from the middle distance over Richard’s shoulder to his face.

“Sorry, what?” Dean flustered.

“Are you coming by this afternoon to run lines?” Richard said slowly and simply, as if he was speaking to a child.

“Yeah, sure. Sounds great, actually. Could use the practice, anyway,” Dean stabbed a cherry tomato a little ruthlessly.

“Are you alright? You seem a little out of it.”

“Yeah, sure, just find it hard to come back from Neverland today, that’s all. I’ll be good for shooting. I wouldn’t want to disappoint my uncle,” Dean tipped Richard a wink and stood, picking up his empty tray.

“Your uncle never approves when the Heir is so distracted,” Richard rumbled with a laugh.

Dean tossed him a wave over his shoulder and meandered to where Aidan was laughing with Graham and Adam. After Dean saw Aidan, he pestered his junior for all the information on dragons and who was draconic in the cast. But Aidan was no more forthcoming than “we like to keep it on the down-low.” Dean frowned at every attempt to question was dodged and sidestepped.

“It’s a cultural thing.”

“We don’t really like revealing ourselves to you guys.” (‘you guys’ like humans were horrible creatures - they were - and the dragons were some lofty creatures)

“If you don’t already know, I won’t tell you. They’ll let you know.”

Excuse after excuse. Aidan was usually very open with Dean on every subject under the sun, but on the topic of his heritage - his draconic heritage - he kept unusually quiet. Normally Dean wasn’t bothered by people not telling him everything about themselves - he preferred it that way - but Aidan’s reluctance and refusal to share anything bothered him. To the point of annoyance.

Google hadn’t helped very much either, surprisingly.

Aidan flashed Dean a wide grin as he approached.

“Brother! About time you joined the rest of us!” Aidan’s arm went around Dean’s shoulders.

“Why would I want to miss out on whatever is obviously so funny over there,” Dean’s grin matched Aidan’s.

Aidan’s smile fell and he shifted from foot to foot.

“Oh great, more things I’m not allowed to share in. Thanks, Aidan.” Dean huffed and left, pulling out of Aidan’s embrace.

Graham and Adam followed Dean’s retreat with their eyes, looking at Aidan with a joint expression that read something like “he doesn’t know yet?”

**

Dean wasn’t surprised when Richard met him at the door. He was quite surprised at Richard’s state of half-dressed, button down hanging open, no undershirt, and pants surprisingly low slung.

“Hey,” his voice was rougher than usual.

“Did I wake you?” Dean asked, following Richard inside.

“No, not at all,” the door shut and locked behind Dean.

“So, uh, what scene did you want to run through? We’ve got a couple big scenes coming up, so we should really be on our game.”

To use a cliché, the tension could be cut with a knife.

“I was thinking of something else,” Richard coughed awkwardly, waving his hand towards two glasses and a bottle of red wine on the table.

Dean turned a half-smile on his elder, “you are one smooth operator,” he chuckled.

Richard coughed and deflated slightly, “what,” he cleared his throat again, “what scene did you have in mind?”

Dean punched him lightly in the arm, “relax, okay? Let’s have some wine and take things from there, yeah?”

Richard looked confused and watched Dean cross to pour the silky liquid in each of the glasses, holding one out to him.

“The siren song of my people,” Richard laughed, taking the glass from Dean, fingers brushing slightly, coloring high on his cheekbones.

“Cheers!” Dean held the glass up, swirled the wine, draining it in a single swallow. The wine finished peppery on his tongue with a slight hint of raspberries.

“So cut to the chase, Armitage, with your finest red out, this isn’t just about work, huh?” Dean cocked an eyebrow at Richard.

Richard choked on his wine but got everything down.

He blinked and Dean was standing well within his personal bubble, making something flutter in his gut. It would be so easy. Just lean over and take that cocky little bastard’s face in his hands, press his lips to Dean’s, drag him back towards the bed, and…

“Hello, ground control to Major Armitage,” Richard snapped out of his reverie to Dean’s hand waving in his face. “Ah, there you are, welcome back.”

“Sorry,” Richard shook his head to clear out any remaining thoughts.

“Getting distracted, eh? You want me to come back?”

“I want you to come back to bed with me,” his mind muttered.

“No, no, it’s fine.”

Dean perched on the sofa with a grin, “so, you never really answered my question.”

Richard sighed and scrubbed at the back of his head, “no, it’s not really about work.”

Was Dean really going to make him admit his feelings? This was not how Richard had worked this scenario over in his head. He sucked his lower lip and worried it absent-mindedly, aware of the look Dean gave him. He sat across from the other man, watching Dean’s reactions.

Dean sat silently, waiting for the move that he knew Richard wanted.

“Get over here,” he said softly, setting the glass on the floor.

On open invitation.

Richard took it, moving fast, pinning Dean beneath him as their lips met, hot and sweet. Richard on his knees between Dean’s legs, hands framing Dean’s head they kissed. Dean’s hands went to Richard’s sides, gently tracing he serratus muscles: a defined knife’s edge above his obliques. Dean let Richard guide the kiss, slow, sweet, lips barely moving, occasionally bitten playfully, and when they broke apart, he leaned his forehead against Dean’s, breathing heavily.

“Acceptable answer,” Dean breathed, leaning in to steal again from Richard’s mouth.

Richard was acutely aware of Dean’s fingers tracing the tiny lines of muscles, the jutting serratus forming ley lines of experience and effort. Dodge, weave, dodge, weave; his fingertips traced up and across the broad expanse formed by the melding of muscle groups. Here Dean encountered his first obstacle beneath Richard’s shirt. A small, pointed oval, rough like a fingernail, but also smooth.

Another.

Another.

More, and more, Dean’s fingers traced each protrusion he found until his fingers met over the knobbed ridge of Richard’s spine.

He placed his hands gently on Richard’s stacked obliques and pushed him away, sitting up suddenly, real curiosity and mild panic in his eyes.

“What the fuck is on your back?”

Richard was on the far end of the sofa immediately, refusing to look into Dean’s eyes. He missed the bold curiosity when he thought there would be anger and hatred. He expected Dean to storm out with hurtful words on his lips. He expected…

He expected.

He expected to be hurt like he had before. He expected Dean to laugh like so many makeup artists. Like so many people in wardrobe. Like the classmates that caused his mother to defend him valiantly, but to no avail.

No one understood. No one fully human. They all laughed, or ran in terror, or asked stupid, patronizing questions.

A hand caressed his jaw, lifting it, forcing him to meet Dean’s eyes.

“I’m sorry I reacted like that,” he sucked his lip a little bit. “I am curious, if you’re willing to tell me about it.”

Dean. Short, cocky, always a joker.

Yet surprisingly caring.

“Scales,” Richard said quietly.

“Like dragon scales?” Dean asked, a smirk curling one side of his lips. “I know at least Aidan is a dragon.”

Richard’s eyebrows went up, “you know?”

“I saw him walking around one day and he explained as much as he was comfortable with. Some things just seem to be off-limits.” Dean shrugged, “this should be a problem because?”

“Not a problem at all,” Richard smiled, sitting up and shrugging off his shirt, draping it over the arm of the sofa.

He took a deep breath to steady his nerves, and shuffled around to show Dean his back.

The scales stretched from scapula to scapula, and drifted down in a thick cluster, forming an inverted triangle that ended at his lower back. The scales overlapped, forming a second skin, each that oddly rough yet smooth. When Richard moved, they flexed and shifted with him, the light catching with small rainbows shimmering on a blue, almost purple, base.

“Can I touch them?” Dean asked in a hoarse whisper.

“Of course,” Richard said just as quietly.

He faintly felt Dean’s fingers run from skin to scales and down his spine. The touch made him shiver. As Dean touched each scale, a shimmer of iridescence chased his finger, glinting in the sunlight. The scales flexed easily, as a fingernail would. 

He traced the strange half-moon scars on his shoulder blades. 

"Wing scars," Richard answered the unasked question. "I should have had wings like some half-breeds do. Mine never fully formed." 

Dean laid his hand flat in the center of Richard’s back and leaned forward to loop his free around his waist.

“Thank you. They’re gorgeous. I want to go get my macro lens and take pictures. I want to get my wide angle lens and take you out to the great spot where I can contrast the green of the countryside with the deep blue of your scales and the lightness of the sky.” Dean said, resting his forehead on the skin of Richard’s shoulder.

Richard leaned back into the touch and turned, once more ending on top of Dean.

“Not yet. Not quite. This is all very new. Few people outside of my family - and my mother’s side of the family is expansive - have accepted what I am and who I am. Your enthusiasm means a lot to me, but I want to take things slow.”

“That’s fine,” Dean grinned, “as long as I still get to kiss you.”

Richard answered that by kissing Dean soundly, pressing him into the sofa, sucking Dean’s lip into his mouth and biting gently.

“Fuck, Richard,” Dean groaned. Dean wrapped his arms around Richard’s torso, but Richard shook him off.

“Sides, not back,” Richard murmured. “Not yet.”

Dean rested his hands in their original positions, feeling the muscles contract and relax, a complex dance of sodium and calcium ions deep within the tissue. Small motions that translated to electrical signals travelling down extensive nerves, igniting a fire in Dean’s veins. A storm of pleasure that rushed to his gut and to his groin in a primal response he could neither control nor deny.

Richard winced at the sudden knock at the door.

“No one is home,” Dean murmured, reaching for Richard’s face to pull him back in.

Richard placed a kiss to Dean’s forehead and sat up, reaching for his shirt.

“I’d love to, but people know I’m here.”

Dean picked himself up and drew his knees to his chest (hoping to hide his half-hard state) as Richard hastily buttoned his shirt (completely misaligning the buttons) and pulled the door open.

For Lee.

Lee who snarled at Dean.

“Out, O’Gorman, Richard and I need to have a talk.”

Lee who was incredibly curt and completely unlike the Lee that smiled all the time on and off set.

Dean hopped off the sofa and hurried out the door, hearing it slam behind him.

“The hell were you thinking?” Lee snapped. “You know what he is.”

“I know, but…” Richard began.

“No buts, you know we try to keep ourselves. Your mother would be very disappointed in you. You know what happens when you let them in.”

“My father is human and he loves my mother, so fuck off, Lee. I don’t need your shit right now.” Richard winced inwardly. He sounded like a teenager.

And followed suit by slamming the trailer door as he chased down Dean, catching his elbow.

“Dean, wait up, I’m sorry.”

“No, I get it. You and Lee. Should have seen it coming. Congratulations,” Dean pulled out of Richard’s grasp and hurried away.

Richard stood there, shirt still misaligned, the slight breeze tossing the loose ends of his shirt around, watching Dean retreat.

“Fuck,” he growled.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richard confronts Lee.  
> Dean confronts Richard.
> 
> Dean gets the best of Richard.
> 
> _Once more, I mean no character defamation with this story, which is wholly a work of fiction. The concepts within, however, are my intellectual property, so ask before you use it_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because this is essentially a fanfic for a as-of-yet unpublished story (I have designs to do so at some point...when I finish the damn thing) I typed up a blog post to explain some things. Everyone is more than welcome to inbox me over on tumblr if there are still unanswered questions or you're just plain confused.
> 
> Along with the blog post, I have a description of the confirmed dragons on set.

Richard slammed the trailer door behind him, glaring at the form on the floor.

At three meters, Lee had to curl his tail around his feet and be careful of his head, so he didn’t inadvertently break anything in the trailer. Richard noted that he tucked himself up like a cat, wings tight against his back, though the glossy black of his scales, starred like a coat of star sapphires flashed through the clear wing membranes. Lee turned one massive green eye on Richard and snorted haughtily, working his heavy jaw in either anger or thought.

When he spoke, he used the rough tongue of the dragons, a hybrid of an ancient tongue and human languages, something the humans could easily learn and copy.

Humans might be ravenous, destructive beasts on a whole, but that did not earn them complete disdain. Though who would teach a human their language was beyond Lee.

“What was all that about?” Lee asked roughly.

Richard dropped into the tongue, his words tinted by his human accent.

“Why is it your business, Lee?” Richard frowned, squaring his stance, crossing his arms over his chest and fixing Lee with a glare.

“Because you shouldn’t be mixing with his kind,” Lee said a little softer.

“Thank you, mother, wonderful advice. You think I don’t already know the danger? I’ve been hurt before, thank you. I really don’t need a bodyguard, or a watchdog. Dragon. Whatever.”

“There’s a reason that long ago we decided, as a people,” he emphasized the last three words, “we would keep ourselves separate from the humans. They’re disgusting, and foul, and hurt everything they don’t understand. You know that. Your poor mother knows that the best.”

“My father never laid a hand on my mother in anger,” Richard growled, starting to pace slightly. “And Dean is different. He shows curiosity, not fear, not hatred.”

“Your mother has been forcibly cut off from her family, Richard.”

Richard laughed, “Trust me, she has not. I’ve been to family gatherings; I’ve lost count and mispronounced names so often they eventually stopped trying.

“But maybe, just maybe, I’m a more progressive person. Maybe my mother is as well. My father is well accepted and loved within her family. They don’t think of him as anything less than my mother’s mate. Sure, there are a few elders who share your opinion, but they’re few and far between. If being with humans was so bad, then I would have never met that side of my family. So perhaps you need to get your head out of your ass and think that there are humans in this world who aren’t bad, who aren’t about death and destruction and putting dragons in zoos and stew pots. Yes, the humans have caused the extinction of many species, but here we are. We’re surviving, we’re thriving, we’re mingling and mixing, Lee.”

Richard was silent for a long second, fingers to his lips.

“Have you given this spiel to Aidan as well?”

Lee’s eyes went wide and then narrowed, “he didn’t get the same speech, but I did talk to him, yes.”

Richard laughed, “That explains a lot. Dean mentioned Aidan wouldn’t tell him anything. I know Aidan can’t keep his mouth shut about much. What did you threaten him with? Bodily harm? Exile from his family?”

Lee glowered.

“I think it’s best you leave, Lee. I have an apology to make,” Richard waved the dragon off, squeezing between his head and the wall to escape into the bedroom to change. The door slammed shut. Richard sighed and put his face in his hand.

“That thing is going to come off the hinges sometime soon,” he muttered, pushing his hand up and through his hair. He fished his phone from the nightstand, sending a quick text to Dean.

_“I’m sorry. I talked with Lee. Are we still okay? Coffee?”_

He tossed on old jeans, a green t-shirt, and slipped on his jacket.

He found Dean standing outside Aidan’s trailer, eyes rimmed red, chewing on his lip. He refused to look at Richard.

“Hey,” Richard said softly, bumping his arm against Dean’s shoulder affectionately.

Dean just shrugged and made a soft grunting noise in the back of his throat.

“Listen, I’m sorry about Lee there.”

“If you already had someone, then why did you invite me over and let things get so far?” Dean said quietly, his voice cracking a little.

“Lee and I aren’t anything except costars and we have dragon blood. Lee, apparently, has taken it on himself to watchdog, err dragon, the whole set and try to scare off personal relationships.” Richard crossed his arms. The worn leather creaked.

“You’re only half dragon, though, why would anyone else care?”

“Dean, there’s a lot that you don’t know,”

Dean cut Richard off, voice wavering.

“Then why don’t you tell me! Be open; be willing to answer my questions.”

He looked at Richard, expressions of pain, concern, confusion, and caring flitting in random patters across his face.

“I got on set and discovered this whole other world existed, Richard. I discovered it from someone I cared about, from someone I respect, from a friend and colleague. I have questions, Richard; I have a lot of questions that need answering. Not vague hand-wave gestures meant to throw me off the trail.

“I don’t want to be like the rest of humanity and shun and ignore you, or Lee, or Aidan, or anyone else. I want to support you and help you. Aidan says that dragons are slowly coming out in the open. I want to be one of the people who say with genuine honesty that I support your people. Well, your mother’s people.”

“Let’s go get a coffee or something, and I’ll answer as many questions as I can, okay?” Richard said softly.

He offered Dean his arm, Dean laughed once, a bitter sound, and slapped it away.

“This isn’t North and South, you don’t have to be a perfect gentleman.”

Richard flushed and stuffed his hands in his jacket pocket, walking with Dean towards the mostly empty catering. Lee stood just outside, giving the pair a scathing look as Richard held the door for Dean. Adam and Benedict - he was actually on set for a few days in meetings with Peter and Fran - cut him uncharacteristically withering looks of disapproval. Dean and Richard got their coffees and sat at a table far away from the few others, across from one another, but leaning in close so they wouldn’t have to raise their voices. Richard answered every question as honestly as he could, even trying to teach Dean some words, laughing as Dean failed miserably and choked on the guttural consonants and long strings of stressed and unstressed vowels.

“Don’t say it like that, you’ll insult someone’s grandmother, and that is a very bad thing. Dragons are matriarchal and matrilineal. The female rules the roost, and the family name passes from the mother, not the father.”

“No, no one knows how we do it. Some half-dragons can do it, but I can’t.”

“We have our own system of education, but parents can put their kids in whichever system they want.”

They talked, leaned closer, and Dean shifted slightly so the tips of his fingers brushed Richard’s as he was going over the concept of communal dining.

“Want to try this again?” Dean asked in a breathy whisper.

Richard looked from their hands to Dean’s face, his expression softened and hopeful.

He sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“Yeah, I think we can.”

They left catering quickly. Lee was gone, as were Adam and Benedict. Richard thought he heard their voices, rather raised, some distance off, but he couldn’t quite make out what was being said. Dean practically sprinted to keep up with Richard’s long strides but when they reached his trailer, Dean locked the door soundly behind them, turning an almost predatory glance on Richard.

“Bed,” Richard breathed, tossing the jacket on the sofa, leading Dean down the short hall to the bedroom.

The second chance at kissing shot pleasure straight to Dean’s groin, and his crotch remembered how he felt a short time earlier. The way Richard moaned, he felt the same. Dean fell less than gracefully back onto the bad, Richard following shortly, the pair shuffling in a tangle of limbs and stolen kisses to adjust themselves.

Dean’ shirt went first (“looks better on the floor, anyway”) followed by his jeans (“such tight material is unforgivable, you look like a hipster”) and Richards jeans (“you wearing those is a crime, do you know what they do to me?”) and finally his shirt. (“just what I’ve been waiting for”)

Dean broke from Richard, looking up at him with a small smile, replacing his hands on Richard’s sides, giving him a questioning look. Richard answered it with a shake of his head. (“No, it’s too soon. Keep them there.”) He rolled his hips up, pressing his erection into Richard’s belly.

Dean trailed his fingers down Richard’s chest, leaving small red marks in the wake of blunted nails. He hooked his fingers into the hem of Richard’s briefs and stopped, looking vaguely concerned.

“What is it?” Richard asked, voice rougher with arousal.

Dean bit his lip and looked away, “you’re built like a normal human male, right? Not like anything you can buy off the internet?”

He at least had the decorum to blush. Richard laughed, head coming to a rest on the pillow beside Dean’s head while his shoulders shook. Dean gave a slightly indignant squawk.

“No, no, I’ve had this for 41 years, I can assure you, it’s quite human in build and functionality.” He pushed himself back up to capture Dean’s lips.

“See for yourself,” he growled, shifting, allowing himself to be pushed onto his back, Dean astride his hips.

Dean shimmied down, pulling Richard’s briefs with him, holding a breath as he pulled them over the straining form beneath the cloth. (though he would never admit to doing so) He breathed out, taking in the sight before him: Richard naked, hard, beginning to gleam slightly with sweat and anticipation. A glace to his face showed black pools rimmed with the barest hint of cobalt. He growled and felt his face flush as he bent to place a soft kiss to the base of Richard’s cock, smiling at the hissing gasp from the man below him. Richard’s head rolled as he felt Dean’s hot tongue licked a stripe up the thick vein. He moaned as the heat of Dean’s mouth enveloped him, sucking and hollowing his cheeks. Dean worked with the skill of a man who had done this before. He bit his lip, biting back a loud groan when Dean’s hand rolled his balls, pressing a knuckle into his perineum.

“Fuck Dean,” he groaned, licking his lips.

Dean pulled off with a wet pop and grinned.

“I’m so glad you like,” he ran his tongue around the head, gaining himself another groan, “and that was the plan.”

One hand palmed Richard’s cock as Dean shifted to kiss him, Richard tasting his own salty taste on Dean’s lips. His tongue darted out and he licked Dean’s lips. Dean caught Richard’s tongue, sucking it into his mouth. Richard keened as Dean’s hand worked, stroking Richard’s cock with varying intensities.

Fast, slow, fast, fast, slow.

Richard rolled his hips, growling as Dean’s hand moved. Dean laughed against Richard’s lips, placing a small kiss to the juncture of jaw and neck, kissing a trail down the man’s throat, scraping with his teeth, but never biting. Richard canted his head to the side.

“Just bite me,” he pleaded, voice thin, debauched.

“Mmm,” Dean hummed, “no, not just yet. I have to find the perfect spot.”

Dean removed his hand, Richard whined at the loss.

“If I keep my hand there, you’ll come too soon, and then where would we be?” Dean continued his kiss-bite trail across Richard’s shoulder, nosing the prominent clavicle, moving south. His left hand ghosted across Richard’s stomach, fingers trailing in the thatch of hair teasingly.

With a growl, Dean grasped Richard’s hair, pulling his head back, biting just below his clavicle, sucking a dark bruise. Richard yelped in surprise, quickly shifting to a deep growl of appreciation.

“If you don’t fuck me soon,” Richard’s voice was rough and strained, “you will pay.”

“Then you will just have to punish me,” Dean smirked, sliding his hand past Richard’s twitching cock, ghosting over his balls (rolling them once for good measure) he tapped his fingertip against the older man’s ass.

Richard jumped.

“Night stand,” he groaned.

Dean stretched bodily over Richard to reach, giving Richard excellent access to Dean’s nipple. His tongue flicked the nub, earning a hiss from Dean. Richard licked Dean’s nipple again, sucking it into his mouth and worrying it between his teeth. Dean groaned, almost falling as his whole body buckled from the sudden sensation, the sudden pleasure.

“Jesus, Richard,” he murmured, arching into the touch as Richard’s hand came up to hold him in place as he licked, sucked, and bit Dean’s nipples.

Dean found himself enough to find the small bottle of lube and a condom, squirming from Richard’s grasp and giving him a dirty look.

“Behave.”

“I am.” Richard tried to look innocent.

Dean gave him a fond smirk and a questioning look.

“Get on with it, O’Gorman,” Richard growled, “you have no fucking idea how long I’ve waited for this.”

Large hands wrapped around the back of Dean’s head, pulling him back down flush while Richard kissed him.

“You’re too over dressed for this shit,” Richard murmured, releasing his grasp to pull Dean’s underwear down, palming him roughly. Dean grunted, pressing into Richard’s hand.

“I think we need to hurry up.” Dean shifted enough to fumble with the lid of the lube, coating his fingers. His other hand snapped the lid shut and tossed the tube somewhere on the bed.

Fuck knows where it went.

Dean rubbed his fingers together, coating them, pressing the tip of his middle finger to the furled muscle. He caught Richard’s eyes, black irises all but eclipsing cobalt, and he nodded. Dean slowly pushed his finger deeper, watching for signs of pain in Richard’s face. He grunted, enjoying the feeling of the warmth clutching around him.

His second finger teased Richard’s rim, circling, dipping in to the first knuckle before pulling out again. He enjoyed every sound he pried from Richard’s lips, dry from panting. Richard’s tongue darted out, licking them. Dean watched the motion, mirroring the lick.

Richard clenched around him as Dean took his cock into his mouth again, dragging up the shaft slowly. He seated his second finger fully, scissoring and working his fingers to loosen and open him. He curled his fingers inside and Richard saw stars as Dean found his prostate, moving his fingers in and out, pegging the gland. Dean hissed when Richard’s fingers found their way into his hair, pulling harshly.

“Stop fucking teasing me, and fuck me, _yashig_ ,” Richard growled, voice cracking over the draconic word, a term of endearment

Dean launched himself up Richard’s body, capturing his lips in a rough kiss, licking into his mouth, hand working as they tangled. Richard’s hands came around him and held him flush against his skin, rutting and panting into the smaller man. Dean broke the kiss and the hold, propping himself on his free arm for support as he kissed down Richard’s neck, nipping lightly as he went.

Richard’s hands moved, and the man went rigid beneath Dean as his tongue found the pebbly nub of Richard’s nipple. Richard growled digging the nails of one hand into the skin of Dean’s back.

“ _Dala me, yashig_ ,” he mumbled under his breath.

Dean turned his attention to the other nipple, worrying the nub between his teeth. He sealed his lips around the sensitive flesh and sucked, pulling away with a small pop. His eyes fell on Richard’s face again and his heart fluttered. Richard watched him from under heavy lashes, a blush staining his cheekbones, his cheeks flushed with arousal, a flush that spread to his chest. Dean’s heart fluttered with something other than just lust at how vulnerable and fucking adorable the man looked right now. His eyes fell on the silver packet held gently between Richard’s teeth, taking in the soft look he gave him.

“You fucking sap,” Dean laughed softly, leaning in and plucking the packet from Richard’s mouth with his own.

He took the packet out of his mouth and leaned in to kiss Richard, tearing it open and rolling the condom on. Richard’s hand closed around his cock, giving him a few encouraging strokes while Dean fished the lube back from the oblivion known as the bedding.

Dean hissed as the cool lube hit his hand, stroking himself slowly to spread it liberally before moving between Richard’s long legs, seating the head of his cock at Richard’s entrance, looking up for more confirmation.

“God yes, do it man,” Richard growled, squirming against Dean. " _Chosu e'migi yasu al'rhari._ "

Dean grabbed Richard’s hips and slowly, agonizingly, pressed in. Richard chewed his lip as Dean slid home. Richard clenched uselessly around the intrusion, making Dean fight not to buck. He was warm and solid, and felt perfect beneath Dean. He glanced at Richard, who nodded, shifting his hips, and urging the man to move.

“Eager aren’t we?” Dean chuckled, fucking into Richard roughly. He took both of Richard’s legs, folding them to his chest, hissing at the sudden tightness.

Richard threw his head back and moaned with filthy pleasure.

“ _Sanza ip_ ,” he groaned encouragingly in Draconic.

Dean caught Richard’s lips as he fucked into him roughly.

“I have no fucking idea what you’re saying, but it’s sexy as hell.” Dean admitted, biting down on Richard’s lower lip.

Richard rumbled with a laugh, rolling his hips to meet Dean’s.

Mutual noises of pleasure were lost in the sounds of breathing, and kissing, and the wet slap of skin-on-skin. Dean released Richard’s legs, which locked around him, pulling him closer, burying him in the stretched, warm heat.

Dean shifted slightly, pegging Richard’s prostate with every long stroke, grinning with the knowledge he made the older man see stars. 

“ _Yasu znasha_ ,” Richard groaned, English completely gone from his mind. “ _Zna yasu, yashig_.”

The foreign sound of Draconic, rough and grating, sounded perfectly normal and unerringly sexy coming from deep in Richard’s chest. The debauched man beneath him wordlessly mouthed syllables, mouth moving with no words, long lashes splayed along flushed cheeks, fluttering slightly with every movement of Dean’s hips.

Dean’s hand found Richard’s leaking cock, stroking it with the rhythm of his hips, stuttering slightly as pleasure pooled in his groin, his own release threatening to overthrow him.

“Come for me, Richard,” Dean whispered, lips ghosting lips, swallowing every noise and moan before they had the chance to escape.

Richard’s eyes rolled back in his head, his body going rigid as his orgasm crashed over him, sudden and hard and utterly perfect. He painted his chest and Dean’s hand with thick streaks of sticky fluid.

The force of Richard’s orgasm threw Dean over his own precipice. His hips stuttered, and he buried himself in Richard, collapsing panting on his chest, not caring about the mess already there. He felt Richard plant soft kisses in his hair and heard him rumble in his chest as he pulled out.

“Fucking hell, Richard,” Dean panted.

“ _Chiu nash zlimta_ ,” Richard kissed Dean’s hair again, “that felt amazing.”

“I have to agree,” Dean rubbed his face on a clean spot on Richard’s chest before pushing up and off to dispose of the condom and fetch a damp towel, wiping the drying cum from himself then Richard’s chest. He followed the swipes of the towel with small kisses.

Richard pushed himself up, stretching slowly, dopey, tired half-smile on his face. Dean tossed the towel on the floor, climbing back onto the bed, fitting himself to Richard’s side, marveling at how he fit so snugly. A well-toned arm wrapped around his shoulder, keeping him close.

Dean slid one arm across Richard’s belly, and ventured to slide the other around Richard’s back. His fingers lightly touched the fringe of the scales, so iridescent and lovely. He looked up at Richard, whose jaw clenched and muscles tightened almost imperceptibly. Richard took a deep breath and everything relaxed.

Dean started to move his hands away.

“No,” Richard said. “Keep them there. Please. Stay, just for a few minutes.”

Dean smiled. He wasn’t sure what happened in Richard’s past. He hadn’t expected this to happen. He hadn’t expected to be caught in a whirlwind of emotions and secrets and discovery.

As the light caused iridescent rainbows to chase one another fleetingly across Richard’s scales, Dean knew that this would be equally as evanescent. He would enjoy this, whatever it was, for however long it would last, and try not mourn it when it was gone, when the river ran its course.

When the iridescent light failed and darkness fell.

His hand stroked the rough scales along Richard’s back, listened to the soft thrum of his heart, and allowed sleep to take him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I may have a little epilogue coming as well. Just a little follow up)
> 
> Draconic used in this chapter:
> 
> _"yashig"_ : A term of endearment.  
>  _"Dala me"_ : "Right there"  
>  _"Sanza ip"_ : "Keep going"  
>  _"Chosu e'migi yasu al'rhari"_ : "I want you to fuck me."  
>  _"Yasu znasha"_ : "I'm so close"  
>  _"Zna yasu"_ : "Make me come"  
>  _"Chiu nash zlimta"_ : "That felt amazing"

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't mean for this to become two parts.
> 
> Lee just kind of helped himself in there, and I'm running with it.
> 
> I do have designs for what everyone would look like as dragons. I will post the list later.
> 
> (and those who received snippets, I know I changed the names in the introduction. They were giving too much away.)


End file.
